In the desert, I’d had some sense I was close to… something.
Here… I was trapped between secrecy and politics that kept me bound by duty and silence. My rage, usually kept locked behind an arrogant smirk and years of practice, turned into desperation as another seven days ticked away while I debated how much longer Dante could last under the Overseer’s brutality.
He was running out of time.
We all were.
After Ember filled me in on her midnight excursion—during which I barely kept my temper from boiling over—Gabriel and I renewed our hunt for Dante with new fervor.
I leaned hard on my trusted Brotherhood contacts—especially Lucien Delvecchio—trying to narrow down what this favor might entail.
Severin was incorruptible, but Giovanni had a way of twisting even the most honest males. So far, I’d found nothing incriminating. With his father confined to the island and growing sicker, Gabriel ripped Marcello’s office apart, looking for anything out of the ordinary—large payments, routes that didn’t match official manifests, names he didn’t recognize.
As expected, we found plenty of corruption.
But nothing on the Fossa.
Tonight, depending on Gabriel’s spy network, that could change.
Iwaited on a slick boardwalk that stank of rotting fish, watching ships rock in their berths. Spotlights swung overhead, casting beams of harsh light across the water. Mortals in dark coats moved illicit cargo from ship to warehouse, the thud of heavy wood crates and the murmur of voices a steady hum of background noise.
The crates were a shipment from the mortal arms dealer Dante was supposed to eliminate, yet here we were, doing business with him. Striking a fool’s bargain with our enemy out of pure desperation. Despicable on every level, but tonight’s business dealings gave Gabriel and me a moment away from the safehouse.
Away from Emberline’s condemning silence.
Emberline.
I scrubbed my hands down my face, my head a tangle of worry. She was losing weight, barely picking at her food. Not eating properly. Notfeedingproperly—only drinking from a glass, not straight from the vein, something Gabriel and I had to address and soon.
I knew how that fucking conversation would go.
Not how I wanted it to go, that was for sure.
No, if fate had dealt a different hand, Ember would be atmythroat, inmybed, but my only task was to protect her. To keep my oath to my friend. Even though I was in love with his wife, so my word was shit at this point.
Yeah, what a fucking tangled web we weave.
I clenched my fists, letting myself imagine, for one lust-filled, foolish moment, what it would feel like to have her fangs in my skin. To hold her in my arms, to feel that soft, willing body melt into mine and…
A shout pulled me away from my pathetic dream of the future and into a present that offered me nothing except dead ends and empty promises.So more of the same, really.
Gabriel stalked across the dock, out of place in his cashmere coat and handmade dress shoes.
“How did your conversation go?” Even the words tasted foul, almost as foul as the fact we were doing business with this piece of shit.
“With the mortal?” He cocked his brow. “The greedy bastard said he’d do it, but for a steep price. As far as the spies we planted in the DiRavello household? Nothing,” Gabriel pressed a folded paper into my hand. “Not a fucking thing.”
“Well, at least we have the mortal on our side,” I said wryly.
“Hardly a testament to success,” Gabriel grumbled. “And trusting him… I’ll expect you to put the fear of the gods into him, Nico, explain what happens if he double-crosses us.”
As he stared out across the water, I opened the note, the ink smeared by saltwater and sweat. The message was brief: Giovanni hadn’t left the city. No unusual visitors. No gossip from the servants about the desert, or Africa, or anything out of the ordinary.
“If we could get a look at Gio’s books, there’s a chance we could follow the money, but my spies tell me the study is better guarded than the Draconi fortress.” Gabriel shot me a sideways look. “And Marcello hasn’t gotten out of bed in a week. He doesn’t have anything to do with my brother’s disappearance.”
“Giovanni masterminded everything,” I said flatly. “He killed Emberline, disappeared Dante, and we’ll never get close enough to find anything substantial.”
“Luca is a Pentarch now,” Gabriel mused, crossing his arms over his chest. “I could arrange a meeting, say I required his presence for delicate Dynasty business. See if he knows anything.”
